


A bludger to the heart.

by IceBreeze



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Background Relationships, F/F, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-07 19:26:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7726807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceBreeze/pseuds/IceBreeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some would say their relationship was an enigma. To them, it was magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A bludger to the heart.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MystifyandAmuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystifyandAmuse/gifts).



> For the Renison anon's prompt: 'Hogwarts au thing.'
> 
> Here it is, at last. It's a little rough around the edges, but I saw [this beautiful post,](http://autisticlynch.tumblr.com/post/141539799235/but-how-would-you-sort-the-characters-form-the) and it inspired me. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> By the way, if any one is willing to beta-read the occasional fic for me (super please) then it would be very much appreciated and I would love you forever and will definitely repay you somehow.
> 
> [Send me a prompt and I'll write something for you!](http://polyhymina.tumblr.com/ask)

To the rest of the school, it was a relationship that came out of nowhere. You were in Slytherin (cunning and ambitious, resourceful and isolated, the house of dark wizards), she was in Gryffindor (brave and daring, chivalrous and kind, the house of heroes). She had more friends than she had fingers (bright and warm, drawing people to her with smiles like she was an angel), whilst you were one of the treacherous trio. She was kind (always patient, always warm. Not a bad word said about her beyond a jealous few) whilst you were cruel (snide and spiteful, a pure bitch who used honesty like a knife). She was muggleborn (an unknown family, an unknown world) whilst you were pureblood (the cast-off heir of a death-eater).

_(They didn’t try to understand)._

But to you, it was a relationship that started on the Quiditch field. It had been a bad week for all of you (and it showed, in the way Day threw himself down a bottle, drinking until he passed out, leaving you and Neil to pick up the pieces. In how his fingers twitched for a broomstick, running himself ragged as he trained, trained, trained until you had to wrestle him to the ground and sit on him until he gave up so you could drag him back. It was in the way Neil spent more time flying than usual, barely leaving the air and when he did, his twitchiness grew more pronounced and he picked fight after fight to try and ground himself. It was in the growing intensity of your shaking, the increased amount of makeup to hide the bags under your eyes and the more frequent trips to the infirmary you spent carried by Neil or Kevin, blood on your knuckles and bile in your throat as you couldn’t move), so when Gryffindor offered a practise match, you all jumped on it like a cat does its prey.

When the match arrived, the three of you came alive at last, and you felt your blood sing as the adrenaline coursed under your skin. You barely payed noticed to your opponents or the way Josten raced after the snitch or Day’s shouting as he threw the Quaffle. You were more focused on driving bludger after bludger away from your team and towards theirs (and if you put more aggression into each hit than usual, then you could hardly be blamed). This was where you thrived, with the power in your hand and several hundred feet between you and the ground.

By the time the siren sounded signalling the end of the game as Neil’s hand closed around the snitch, your cheeks were flushed and there was a feral smile on your face as you felt better than you had in a long time. Almost reluctantly (almost, because there is no way in hell you were going to be a junky like Day and Neil) you brought yourself to the ground, smile not wavering as you dragged your two friends into a one armed hug (because both of them complained when you did that, which made it your favourite thing to do). Those two were the only ones you made contact with as you nodded to the others before going to put your bat away, carrying yourself with all the ferocity and regality of a snake (or a lion, depending on how you looked at it).

Most people avoided talking to you after games (whether it was because they were nursing still fresh bruises and petty grudges from your bits, or because of the bad rumours that you wore like a cloak) so when a Gryffindor beater (Walker, your memory supplied, the pretty one with just as many rumours about her as Neil does) said-

“You’re a brilliant beater. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

-You were understandably surprised. Not that you showed it, of course. After studying her for a brief moment with a calculative stare (she didn’t waver at all, her smile still perfectly pleasant. It felt fake, it felt too perfect, like the sort of sickly sweet you get from dietary meal replacements), you bared your teeth in a smirk and told her:

“Of course, sweetheart. Perfection like me is proof God exists, after all.”

With that, you walked away and fully expected your interactions with each other to end there. You didn’t think she would be significant in your life beyond the Quiditch pitch (and perhaps not even there) and you certainly didn’t expect to fall in love.

_(You were never more wrong)._

* * *

It wasn’t until a week later that she came into your life again. You were in your corner of the library (a place that people never seemed to use but you loved), reading for your potions homework, when a large book was placed opposite you on the table. Glancing up in surprise, your eyes met Walker’s as she asked:

“May I sit here?”

You fought the urge to scowl and simply tipped your head in acknowledgement, returning your focus to your book, shoulders lined with new tension. Part of you expected her to walk away, but she sat down and, instead of talking inanely like you were dreading, she read quietly. After a while, you were able to relax as though she wasn’t there, the silence becoming more comfortable and when you parted, it was an cordial terms.

_(Which is more than you can say for most people)._

Only she came again. And again. And again. Every time you went to the library, she was there, casting you a smile and a greeting as though she wasn’t encroaching in your space before returning to the book she had with her. At first you were annoyed, expecting it to be part of some scheme or something unpleasant (someone seeking status or wealth through your friendship, or perhaps trying to find more rumours to spread). Yet it wasn’t and your annoyance began to ebb away, replacing itself with curiosity.

_(Why was she sitting here, what did she want, why why why-)_

So eventually- when she had been sitting there enough that you could probably know her by the sound of her breathing- you began to talk to her. And she joined in without hesitation, answering and asking questions in equal measure. Through this you found that you were comfortable conversing with her (perhaps because she was easy to talk with and difficult to offend, so any cutting remarks you made weren’t taken to heart; or perhaps it was because you were both more similar than it appeared) and soon you found yourself enjoying her company.

After a while your conversations together began to extend from the library, making their way to lessons you shared and sometimes during your free time. You learned about her (about her foster mother, her friends, her faith) and in turn you told her about you (about Day and Neil, about your family, about Seth). Soon, you’d found yourself a friend.

_(You didn’t think about the way your thoughts would often turn to her and the fact that you began to look forward to her company. You didn’t think about what that could mean)._

* * *

 

You and Day were already halfway through a bottle of firewhisky when Neil returned to the common room, lips suspiciously swollen, and asked you both to come to the Room of Requirement with him. To hang out, he said, with some friends from the other Quiditch teams. Day was reluctant (probably not as much as he would be if he was sober) but then Neil mentioned that Minyard would be there and he changed his mind quicker than a dog could wag his tail.

_(”Twenty bucks says his love for exy has been bumped down to third because of Minyard.”_

_“Third? Who’s the second then?”_

_“Oh, sweetie. You poor oblivious child.”)_

You shrugged, tagging along because it seemed like it might be fun (not because she might be there, of course). And, surprisingly, it was. Upon entering the room your eyes landed on coloured hair and a warm smile that seemed to brighten when it landed on you, making your heartbeat quicken as you tried to swallow down the overwhelming feel of delight you felt at a simple smile.

_(It was like trying to kill a phoenix because nothing could make it go away)._

You barely noticed as Day and Neil immediately made their way over to the Hufflepuff Minyard (the Ravenclaw minyard-twinyard-tryhard was seated with his girlfriend as far away from everyone else as he could manage), leaving you to join Walker’s group. Walker made room for you to sit by her side, flashing you another smile that you returned, before introducing you to her friends (Dan Wilds, the Gryffindor team captain and Goalkeeper, and Matt Boyd, Gryffindor chaser), both of whom were startlingly friendly to you, considering the rumours.

_(Later you would learn that this was because of Walker and Neil both talking about you, but at that moment it was an enigma to you)._

As the hours passed you began to relax- both due to their company, and the influence of alcohol- and you found yourself liking the easy camaraderie that surrounded them. You seemed to fit with them, like a missing puzzle piece. You’d all but forgotten about Neil and Day until you glanced over to see a sleeping Day leaning on Neil’s shoulder as the scarred boy and Minyard spoke in hushed tones, their heads closer together than strictly necessary. A wicked grin crept up on your face as you turned back to the trio beside you and said:

“Want to make a bet?”

Walker looked slightly confused, Boyd more than slightly, but Wilds just burst out laughing and said:

“I think we’re going to be great friends.”

_(It was the truest thing she’d ever said)._

* * *

From that night forth your group of friends expanded from two to eight (with some you were closer to than others). Neil and Kevin (because he was Kevin now- not Day- just like you were Allison) both began to act like actual human beings, spending more time doing things that weren’t Quiditch (granted, most of these involved a certain midget, but still. Good for them) and you found yourself spending a lot more time with other people. You had become fast friends with the others and the single bet you made that night soon spiraled into the lot of you betting on almost everything. You found yourself laughing genuinely more than you had in a long time.

You also found yourself falling in love. Somewhere along the line Walker became Renee and you knew her better than you knew yourself. More often than not, she was by your side, whether it was in the library where you both had your special corner to study in (a private space far from prying eyes); or on the grounds where you’d walk together, enjoying the wind in your face and the warmth of her body at your side; or in the dorm rooms where you’d lie on one of your beds side by side and relish in the feeling that the two of you were alone in the world. And when she wasn’t, you missed her.

_(You missed the way she laughed, softly at first then all at once, like a river bursting forth from a dam, the sounds making you smile as it made warmth dance from your heart. You missed the way she’d light up when talking about something she loves, happiness seeping from her like a living creature as she gestured and smiled and spoke.  You missed the way she’d take your hand in hers, strong grip at odds with the way her fingers were gentle and reverent as though you were something fragile, something to be treasured. The way it made your skin tingle, like flowers would burst up in her wake._

_You missed the way that she made the world brighter with her presence, because you loved her. You loved her more than anything)._

But you didn’t say anything about it (not for a long time) and neither did she. Nor did anyone else, because they didn’t care to look. The only ones who might have guessed that there was something more to the growing intimacy between you two (the lingering touches, the hugs that lasted longer than casual, the stares when you thought no-one was watching) didn’t want to interfere.

_(Though they did place another bet in the pot)_

* * *

It wasn’t until a year had passed since your first meeting that either of you confessed. The Yule ball came and you found yourself sitting at the edge of the room, watching the dancers on the floor and delighting in the fact that you were two hundred bucks richer (all thanks to Nicky walking into an empty classroom in search of Minyard, Kevin and Neil, only to find them in the midst of rather graphic activities).

_(His trauma was worth the satisfaction of winning a bet)._

But despite the occasion, you had refused all offers to dance with the same brutality you always used (because they were all gross fools who were looking for a grope or the chance to climb the social ladder). All up until Renee approached- her beauty so overwhelming in the dress she wore that your breath caught in your throat and you felt your cheeks warm- and asked, with a bow and all:

“May I have this dance, my lady?”

The phrasing had you giggling despite the racing of your heart and way it felt like everything was a dream, before you offered her your hand with a curtsey and replied, smiling to try and hide how much you meant the sentiment:

“Only for you.”

When her hand clasped yours, you tried not to shudder. She guided you through the crowd to an empty space on the dance floor as the music started up in a slow song. Her other hand found your back whilst yours was placed on her shoulder, and then you began to dance. You soon forgot about the other dancers, about the band and the teachers all around; your entire focus was on her.

_(Because she was all that mattered)._

And hers was on you. Throughout the entirety of the song, her eyes never left yours, smiling softly as though the moment was precious (and it was). When the song ended, you were both slow to pull away, but you didn’t let go of each other’s hand. With a glance around, she looked at you and tugged gently at your arm, urging you forward as she led you off the dance floor and out of the great hall. She led you through corridors until you reached an empty room and only then did she turn to face you.

She was close, the two of you barely separated by an arms length, her hand sweaty and warm in yours before she disentangled it. For a moment (so brief it may not have truly happened) you thought she was going to step away, to put distance between you and leave you behind, but she didn’t.  Instead she moved closer, step almost hesitant, bringing a hand to your face to brush against your hair, eyes searching yours for something. The touch was so careful, so tentative, that it was like a feather brushing by and that was what made your decision.

You surged forwards, lips meeting hers in a kiss as you brought your hands to tangle in her hair. She didn’t hesitate to react. Eyes shutting, you melted into her as she kissed back, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close as you both lost yourselves in each other’s mouths. It was like drinking Euphoria- you felt like you could tear a hurricane from the sky or touch the stars.

In that moment, you felt like everything was perfect. (And to you, it was).

When you both parted to breathe her hand came to cup your cheek, a flush on her face to match your own as she said:

“I love you.”

And then her lips were upon yours.

* * *

(Those words left your lips thousands of times that night, but it was never enough. Nothing will be enough to embody your love). By noon the school was alight with gossip and rumours of what happened last night and soon everyone knew about you and Renee (it is hard to keep it a secret when people see you walking out of the Gryffindor dormitory side by side in her clothes).

Your friends rejoiced for you (or those who weren’t too busy celebrating their own budding relationship did), whether out of genuine happiness or the fact that you won them a lot of money, whilst the rest of the school thundered. Mocking, griping and complaining, they tried to understand how a snake like you (”her family threw her away because she was a demon.”) ended up with their kind saint of a goalie. But you didn’t care. Not when she was by your side, clasping your hand in hers, smiling like the universe was with you. With her, everything else ceased to matter.

_(You came to this school to learn magic. And you did, only not in the way you expected. The magic you found wasn’t the stuff from the large tomes, that burst from wands in flashes of light and sparks. No, it was in a girl with pastel hair and a smile warmer than the sun._

_You came for magic and instead found love)._

**Author's Note:**

> Can be found on [tumblr.](http://polyhymina.tumblr.com/writings)


End file.
